of mad hats and betrayals of the heart
by the good old days
Summary: jefferson & regina & alice. You don't get it, he says brokenly, you were innocent once. Me? I never was. / or, jeff's past, as told in snapshots


**of mad hats and betrayals of the heart**  
jefferson & regina & alice. you don't get it, he says brokenly, you were innocent once. me? i never was. / or, jeff's past, as told in snapshots

* * *

_You don't get it_, he says brokenly, _you were innocent once. Me? I never was_.

A queen shakes her head. _I bet that's a lie_, she argues.

_No, you don't know me_.

The woman flutters her lashes, looks down bashfully_. I'd like to_.

All she wants is to not be alone anymore. He wants that, too.

.

_Because of my work, she lost her mother; I don't want her to lose her father, too._

.

_I've heard that you have a daughter_, a queen probes. He raises an eyebrow. _Word gets around that the portal jumper has become modest; refuses to leave his child's side_. She pauses a moment. _May I visit her? _she asks quietly.

Hatter stares at her. _After what you have done to me—_

_Granted you royal passage, saved you from your countless enemies, and allowed you to live in peace with the little girl; yes, no need to thank me, Jefferson. I mean only to see her, not harm her; you know I have no children of my own.  
_  
The man will not buy this sob story. _See her from your mirror_, he spits.

The queen only grins.

.

He finds the hat on the eve of his seventh birthday. The wicked object calls to him, sings for him.

_Jefferson, Jefferson, Jefferson, come find me, cruel child, little boy, Jefferson, I can be your escape—_

The hat is much too large for his small, tiny, boy's head; still, he wears it everywhere he goes.

The little girl—his childhood crush, Alice—shows him how to work it. _Spin_, she says,_ like this_. He does and his eyes light up in wonder. _Jump with me! _she calls_—_and, being smitten, he does.

.

_Your hat only transports people to magical worlds._

.

Wonderland is, at first, a wondrous place. The little boy is all grown up now—nine years old, can you believe?—and ready to explore. He knows the hat's secrets, and knows that he wants to make a name for himself. _One day_, he thinks. _One day._

The little girl, his best friend, comes from Wonderland. He likes to think of it as "Alice's Wonderland". That's what makes it so magical, so beautiful, so perfect.

He doesn't yet know how corrupt she is, how black her heart can truly be, how she is only another of the hat's tempting forms—ready to, at a moment's notice, steal his soul and sanity away.

.

_You've taught me everything I know_, he says.

Alice winks. _Not everything._

.

_Get it to work!_

.

The queen has an innocence in her eyes, but there is also a darkness—embers, yes, put there by the Dark One himself, which could one day turn into flames of roaring heat, rage, destruction, death—

_It's strange_, the man says, _you remind me of her, a bit._

The not-a-blonde turns to face the hatter. _Whom?_

He only shakes his head. _Let's take a look at your would-be husband._

.

_The hat can only transport two people; no more, no less._

.

_I'm going to haunt your daydreams, your nightmares, your beginnings, your ends_, says the little blonde girl—no, woman, now. _I've corrupted you and will gladly do it again, my Jefferson, my mad, mad hatter_.

_No_, he says, _I'm not mad_.

_Oh, no_, she agrees. _Not yet_.

He sobs while she laughs.

.

_Papa!_ cries Grace, with obvious joy. _Papa! The queen saved me in the woods! She's oh, so very nice, Papa!  
_  
Her father looks around the room observantly, perhaps for the very first time. _Oh? Is that so, Regina?_

.

_It's hard enough to live in a land where you don't belong, but knowing it, holding conflicting realities in your head will drive you mad._

.

The woman's belly bulges. Her hands enfold the awkward circle, protective, delicate. Light, brown hair falls in ringlets, swaying slightly as she rocks back and forth in the chair. She jerks.

_The baby!_ she exclaims. _Jefferson, the baby is coming!  
_  
Alice appears from absolutely nowhere. _Why don't you let me help with that?_

.

The young peasant walks quietly, stealthily. He's obviously expert at stealing things left and right. He knows no other life, anyways, and how would his family survive without him? Papa is sick and Mother can barely pay the landowner as is. It's no bother for their son to steal enough so that everyone can eat. This is all they ask.

When desperate times call for desperate measures, no price is too large. Or is it the opposite?

.

_You don't abandon family._

.

_You're so selfish, Jefferson_, she croons. _Can't let go of me? Oh, you've seem to have done a marvelous job of that.  
_  
_You left me, Alice_, he says. _You left me and you killed my wife and now you come back?_

_I love you_, she replies simply—an excuse for everything. _Is that wrong?_

_No_, he agrees, _what you did was_.

There's a long, long pause before he speaks. _But I did love you, Alice. I always have._

.

_We're all mad here._


End file.
